Salogel Lharast
by lune de Salogel
Summary: After the destruction of her kind, an immortal girl is sent by her parents to a strange world, hoping she can one day find peace and rest. However, when she is issued by an elvish king to protect his son on a long journey, she finds herself having many odd adventures, and learning that she will never be alone.
1. Prologue

"Mother...?"

"Un sourire vous devient fille. Ne laissez pas votre âme être ramené. Rappelez-vous."

"No! Mother, stay!"

"Vous et vos sœurs restera à jamais dans mon cœur."

"...mother..."


	2. Chapter 1

Note: At the end of every chapter, translations for the text will be provided. For right now, however, I'm going to give translations for all the wacky what-the-hell-is-happening stuff that just went on in the prologue.

"Un sourire vous devient fille. Ne laissez pas votre âme être ramené. Rappelez-vous."

Translates to:

"A smile becomes you, daughter. Do not let your soul be brought down. Remember."

And...

"Vous et vos sœurs restera à jamais dans mon cœur."

Translates to:

"You and your sisters shall remain forever in my heart."

* * *

There! A flash of purple in the trees. He took aim slowly, carefully, and shot. A loud screech emitted from the brush. He raced towards the noise, wanting to know exactly what had caused that shriek.

Upon finding it, he noticed three things: one, she appeared to be a very, very short elleth with black hair that had odd purple underlayers. Another thing was that she had removed the arrow and wrapped the wound from her arm where he had shot her, and lastly, that the arm that he could see and her neck had many scars, some newer, most old.

"Who are you?" he asked, feeling curious, but suspicious.

"Who are you?" she retorted, not wanting to tell her real name.

"You answer first."

Silence.

"Fine, we shall do this the hard way, if that is what you wish. Although I do not wish to imprison a wounded person, especially a woman," he commented, expecting her to succumb immediately.

"Do what you believe must be done," she told him.

He did a double take at her answer. What exactly did she mean by that? Why was she simply letting him capture her? He didn't know, but he decided to take her to his father, for surely he would know what to do with her.

* * *

When he returned to his father's house, dark-haired girl in tow, he found the banquet hall being cleared, his father nowhere to be seen. No, neither the great hall nor in his study, nor even the throne room. That only left one room left: the king's private bedroom. The young elf entered quietly, and finding his father asleep, wrote a short note, saying:

_Atar,_

_This evening, I found a girl in the woods while I was out walking. It was very odd, for she said some strange things and simply allowed me to capture her! She put up no sort of resistance. I have had a maid set up a room for her, feed her, and care for her wounds. I should like to talk to you about this matter further tomorrow morning._

_Legolas_

After ensuring that all was taken care of, the elf went to bed, sleeping with questions flooding his dreams.

* * *

The next day, once again, his father was nowhere to be found, not even in his bedroom. This time, though, neither was the girl. This odd turn of events had him befuddled, and he searched the whole place thoroughly, only puzzling himself further. Finally, he sat down on a stone bench in the courtyard to think.

Presently, as he was thinking unnecessarily hard, a guard interrupted, whispering, "Is there something wrong, my lord?"

"No, nothing important. Just... do you know where my father is? And the girl I found in the woods, she was wounded. Where is she?"

The guard settled himself down beside the blonde, replying, "Your father left for Rivendell this morning with some important business, saying he had something that absolutely could not wait and he would return day after tomorrow. As for this girl you speak of, I do not know. What was her name?"

"She did not tell me."

"Ah."

The two elves sat in silence, enjoying the sound of the baby birds in a nearby tree chirping for their morning meal, until the guard (whose name was, in fact, Gondien) broke the silence.

"My lord, may I ask why you are so interested?"

The Elvish prince let out a breath. "I... do not know."

* * *

The king came back the next evening, but as he had just completed a very long horse ride with no stops, he ate and went to bed hurriedly.

His son found this annoying, but knew in his heart that it wasn't his father's fault. He, as well, went to bed, and slept fitfully, with dreams about purple hair and ice eyes.

* * *

The next day, just as soon as he was awake, the prince rose, dressed, and smoothly plaited his hair within the span of fifteen minutes. He then rushed out the door to seek out his father and get answers.

He stepped into the throne room, and found his father, talking with his chief advisor in low, hushed tones. As soon as they spotted him, though, they stilled. Silence filled the room.

"What do you need, son?"

"Answers, father. I need to know. What was your urgent business, where is that girl I found in the woods, and were your errand and her disappearance related?"

"Slow down, child! I can not answer so many questions all at once!" The king rose from his throne. "Polengoldur, you are dismissed for the time being." The official nodded, bowed, and left.

"Legolas, shall we go out to the courtyard to speak? Most likely in here, we would be interrupted." His son nodded, and the two pale haired men walked out the large archway in the south wall, stepping into a sunlit courtyard.

"Now, son, what is it you would like to know?" He chuckled. "And only one question at a time, please."

"Why did you have to go to Rivendell so suddenly?"

His father's brow rose. "I had assumed you knew! I simply had some business which needed immediate tending."

The young elf (for he was only 2007 years of age) gave a heavy sigh. "Yes, but _what_ business is so urgent that you had to leave in the night, not even telling your own son?"

The elder closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, obviously reluctant about relaying this information to his son. "I had to escort a person of importance to Lord Elrond so we, along with Lord Celeborn, could discuss what to do with them."

"What do you mean, what to do with them? They are their own being, are they not?"

"Well, yes, but they have a certain power which they... know not how to control." Thranduil settled himself on one of the stone benches of the courtyard, his son following suit. "Now, next question."

His son sighed again, annoyed, but knew not to push his father's limits. "Where is the girl I found last night, and are she and your urgent business related?"

"That's two questions."

"That you're avoiding."

Thranduil chuckled. "Fair enough. Alright. She is in Rivendell, with Elrond, to learn how to master her power, as well as the art of using the bow and the sword."

Legolas' brows furrowed. "Why should a female need to learn how to use the sword or bow?"

"For protection…?" His father's answer was tentative, and the young male noticed.

"Really?"

"Alright, you have me. She is… to become a warrior."

"A female warrior? Such is unheard of!"

"That is what I said when Elrond suggested it." Thranduil stood. "But what was I to do? Celeborn concurred. Now, shall we go to the morning meal before we miss it completely?"

Legolas sighed, but stood with his father. "Uma, atar."

* * *

Note:

"atar" translates to "father"


	3. Chapter 2

He remembered those icy blue eyes forever. She was always there, looming in the back of his mind. When he rode to Rivendell for the council; when he was with the Fellowship. When he went to battle with many brave men and elves; when the ring was destroyed. Even now that he was back in Mirkwood.

He slipped through the trees with the amazing grace all elves have, his footsteps barely whispers on the soft soil.

"Elessar, what am I to do?"

"About what? So, you met a girl a long time ago that you liked. It is in the past. _She_ is in the past."

"I..."

"You, what?"

"I... she was different. She had black hair, for one, and purple strands in your hair isn't exactly a normal thing to have. For another thing, I... I believe I felt different. Those few minutes when I was around her, I felt this odd sort of... curiosity I have never felt with anyone, man, elf, dwarf, wizard, or hobbit, before or since."

"I feel the same with Arwen as you say you feel with her. Do not fear the feelings, but conquer them. Do not let them control you."

"I... I shall not."

* * *

"Father, why must I do this? I have gone to the Black Gates of Mordor and come back safe and unharmed! Do you not trust me?"

"Son, you must understand. I am doing this for your protection! You had others with you your entire journey last time! I do not wish for you to go into the wilderness alone! I was frightened enough when you had to go all the way to Rivendell alone."

The duo had been at it for nearly an hour, speaking so loudly it could be considered yelling for Thranduil, and practically screaming for Legolas.

"My lord, please. I know the dangers of the wild. Must I be escorted everywhere constantly simply because I am Prince of Mirkwood?"

The older man sighed and massaged his temples. "Son, you know your place."

"I do believe I do. And it's out there, somewhere, calling to me."

"Let it call, and let you go to it! That, I do not mind. But you must have a guard, an escort, someone, with you."

"Father-"

"No, absolutely not! You go with an escort!"

The younger laid his face in his hands. "Fine. I shall go with escort. I ride tomorrow."

The older man sat up straight and smiled, a cheeky, self-satisfied smile. "Lovely! I already have the arrangements made! Must simply tell Beriadan to close the deal."

Legolas slipped decided to slip out while his father was preoccupied, so he swished silently to the doorway and exited.

"What have I gotten myself into?"

* * *

"Miss Mordollwen?"

A girl of 19 years turned, lowering her bow smoothly. "Yes, Tithaefarason?"

"Lord Elrond wishes to speak to you, my lady."

"Thank you, Tith. Please tell him I shall be in in a few moments."

The servant bowed. "As you wish, my lady."

Mordollwen gathered all her arrows, wrote how well she had done in her arrow-keeping notebook she kept in a pocket on her quiver for her father, and then strode to the house, and directly to her adoptive father's study.

"Tithaefarason told me you wished to see me."

"And he was correct." Elrond stood from his chair and stepped around his large wooden desk to place his hands on Mordollwen's shoulders. "Morwen, I have something very important for you to do."

* * *

"Atar, why do I always miss?" asked a girl of about ten. "It's getting annoying."

Her father chuckled. "I believe, after much practice, you will achieve your goal."

"I hope so. It just seems so far away," she sighed, holding up her bow once again.

Her father adjusted her posture quickly and muttered, "Now, shoot carefully. Keep both eyes open and on your target."

She nodded, pulled back, and shot.

The arrow pierced the target within the middle ring. The girl could barely believe her eyes. "Atar! Did you see? I hit within the center ring!"

He nodded and smiled contentedly. "Well done, Morwen."

* * *

"Do you believe I am ready?" Morwen gasped.

"I believe you will be in a year or two, when you will need to carry out all I have just said."

She breathed out a heavy breath of relief. "Thank Azar. I thought you meant immediately."

He chuckled. "No, my daughter. Not now. But soon."

* * *

Almost two years had passed since the day her father had told her that, she realized. It did not feel so long. But now, here she was, preparing to take the journey her father had prophesied so many days ago.

Her petite fingers slid a dress or two(but mostly leggings and Elvish robes) into her knapsack. She then added two very important books: A book from where she came, called I' Parma En' Azar in the Elven tongue, or Le Livre De Azar in her old tongue, as well as book her father had selected for her, Atara Waani. A smaller book on Elvish history was slipped in as well, after a moment's contemplation. She added a few other essentials, then whispered goodbye to the place she had dwelled for 13 years in her old tongue.

On her way downstairs, she picked up some Lembas bread from the kitchen, as well as some cheese to eat right away, and then she filled her canteen with cold, clear water from the well outside the kitchen door.

It was time.

* * *

She was leaving. She tied the last bag to the saddle of her horse, Lithôniel. Her father stood near her, loosely holding Lithôniel's reigns.

Morwen flung her arms around Elrond, pressing her upper and lower eyelids together to cut off the torrent of tears that were threatening to fall. A warm tear rolled down her cheek and landed on Elrond's robe. She pulled him closer, not wanting to let go, but at last pulling away.

"Tenna' lye en deno' ilye n'at au', atar."

He smiled. "Tenna' san', Morwen, amin tinu."

* * *

She brushed away a stray tear from her face. No more sad thoughts of her adoptive father, or her real father or mother, or of her adoptive and real sisters.

She shook her head and urged Lithôniel a little faster.

It was time.

* * *

Legolas went to bed that night, hoping his father's escort would not be prepared tomorrow, but knowing a new escort worthy in his father's eyes would not be easy to find on such short notice, and he would be forced to postpone if that occured.

He slipped into his nightclothes and snuggled into his bed, hoping it would be the last time he would sleep in it for a long while.

* * *

A beautiful little girl raced through the hallway, hoping her mother would not catch her. Her purple streaked hair fluttered about behind her as she ran, yelling, "You can't catch me, Momma!"

"Are you so sure about that?"

The girl did her best to say yes, but it was drowned out as her mother appeared in front of her. She caught the young girl up in her arms, swirling her about before setting her down gently.

Just then, a tall, masculine figure stepped in. It would have been unnoticeable with how quiet he was, but the two females had been expecting him all day. Their eyes brightened at the sight of him. His daughter rammed into his leg, shouting, "Father!"

His wife smiled slightly before racing over to him, a spring in her step, as she exclaimed his name, and they all laughed heartily, joyful at being together once more.

* * *

_Note: 'I' Parma En' Azar' and 'Le Livre de Azar' both translate to 'The Book of Azar'. __The name 'Azar' will be explained later. For now, just think of Azar as a goddess. __'Atara Waani' literally means 'Mother Goose'._

_"Tenna' lye en deno' ilye n'at au', atar" means "Until I look upon your face again, father". Basically saying "See you later, dad" but really long. His reply, "Tenna' san', Morwen, amin tinu" means "Until then, Morwen, my daughter."_

_Another thing that I would say is important to note is that all the names in this fanfiction will be quite literal, aside from ones that are Tolkien's. For example, Tithaefarason's name means 'little hunting bird' which seemed fitting. Also, Lithôniel means 'ash tree' which seemed somewhat fitting as I am picturing her as a dappled gray horse._


	4. Chapter 3

It was late that night when Morwen and her escorts arrived at Thranduil's castle. A maid had already prepared rooms for them, and was waiting to lead them to their beds, meals, and baths, which they gratefully accepted.

"Never pass up on free food, baths, and bedding," Morwen said. "Thank you."

* * *

The next day's earliest rays of sun came far too early to Morwen. She pulled her blanket up over her head, feeling indignant, and wanting the sun to leave her alone. Meanwhile, a lovely soprano voice urged her to awaken. She only burrowed further into her blankets. They didn't call her Mordollwen for nothing.

The high, soft voice echoed through the room again. "Miss Mordollwen? It is time to awaken! The sun has been up over an hour!"

Morwen groaned. "Just a few more minutes!"

The maid giggled. "Miss Mordollwen, breakfast is ready. If you do not hurry, there will be none left for you!"

Morwen rolled over, misjudged how wide the bed was, and fell off of it with a loud shriek. The maid, even while she was helping Morwen up, could not help but grin at the other female's obvious mistake. "Miss Mordollwen, would you like help?"

Morwen muttered to herself, feeling quite annoyed. "No thank you… what did you say your name was?"

"I did not say. It is not usually approved of to tell your name unless asked."

"Well, I am not your master, so feel free to tell," Morwen replied, smartly.

The girl's eyes widened. "I-I… my name is Maerwen."

Morwen smiled kindly. "There is no need to feel ashamed of your name. At first, when I received this name, I detested it. I mean, who wants the word 'doll' right in the middle of their name?" She chuckled. "No one but my eldest sister. I remember, we used to play dolls together, staying up past our bedtimes just enjoying our toys and each other's company." She smiled, softly, fondly. The memories were sweet, but had an under-taste of bitterness. She had left that life behind nearly fourteen years ago.

* * *

As soon as she finished waking up completely, and helped the maid make the bed, she dismissed the maid from her duties, instead saying she wished to talk with another female one more time before she went on this extensive journey, with no one to speak to but her companion and the trees.

"Maerwen, what do you wish to do with your life? I mean, you must wish to do more that be a maid all your life," the slightly older (physically, mind you) girl asked as she smoothed her brush through her long, dark hair and allowed the other to plait it into a long braid we would call a French braid.

"I suppose I would like to marry, have children, and enjoy my life in peace. I never have wanted much," Maerwen replied, tying the end of Morwen's braid. "What would you wish to do?"

Morwen leaned back in her chair. "Oh, I don't know. Explore Middle Earth, I suppose."

"You don't want to settle down?"

"Not right now, at least. I never was much of a settler. The only reason I didn't go crazy the past few years in Rivendell is because I always had something to do. You know, practice my archery, swordplay, and use of various other weapons," she said. She rose from the chair and strode to the wash-basin to rinse out her mouth and wash her face.

"Why do you wish to learn how to use weaponry? What use does a woman have for such things?" Maerwen questioned, resting her chin in her hand.

"I guess I have always wanted to know, simply to protect myself, and because it is my nature. It runs in my family to be good with weapons. My sisters all are."

Maerwen's brows furrowed. "Who are all these sisters you speak of? As far as I knew, you only had one sister."

Morwen's eyes widened. "I- um…"

"It's alright if you do not wish to tell me. I would not wish for my father's reputation to be tarnished-"

"Valar, no! Thank Azar that is not the case." Morwen shook her head hastily. "No, that is not the case."

* * *

After she had put on some fresh clothes and re-packed her few bags, she asked Maerwen to lead her to the dining hall. On the way, she bumped into Legolas, who was hurrying on the way to saddle his horse, and in his rush, hardly noticed her.

She furrowed her brows. "Maerwen, who was that? I feel like I recognize him."

"Why, Miss- er, Morwen, that is Prince Legolas. You may recognize the name, for he is King Thranduil's son."

"I… never mind. I must have dreamt it."

"Dreamt what?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but I feel I've met him before."

* * *

Legolas rose earlier than usual that morning, eager to prepare his supplies and get on the road to Moria as quickly as possible. He hurriedly gathered clothes and extra arrows to store in his pack, as well as a blanket his father had given him for the trip. A book or two was added, as well as some cooking supplies and food, mostly Lembas bread, but some fruit and meat to eat that day or the next.

His packing didn't take him long, about half of the hour, and he went to breakfast just as the maid laid out the last platter. He sat and ate quickly, leaving as quickly as possible to double check his supplies, get some fresh Lembas bread, and saddle his horse before the cool hours of the morning were spent, though he had told his father he would leave in the afternoon.

He saddled his faithful horse, Arod, and had just gotten his saddle-bags tied on, when his father stepped out.

"All ready to go, I see. And so early!" His father nodded, approving. "You just need one more thing- to meet your escort!"

"Father-"

"Ah! Here she is now!" Thranduil interjected. "I do believe you shall like her, indeed."

"Her? Father, who do you speak of? I had assumed Gondien or Beriadan would be joining me?"

"No, no, she just arrived last night. From Rivendell."

"From… Rivendell?"

"Ah! Legolas, meet your escort, Mordollwen. Mordollwen, this is my son, Legolas."

She bowed smoothly, fluidly; a mix between the feminine curtsy and the masculine deep bow. "Prince Legolas. I am Morwen, daughter of Elrond. I shall be escorting you on your journey, however long or short it may be."

Legolas' eyes widened as he noticed her long, black hair, with purple strands underneath.

"You- I- I mean- father, did you know this?" Legolas asked, feeling quite flummoxed.

"Know what?" Both Morwen and Thranduil asked, Thranduil feeling slightly victorious, and Morwen still regaining her memory of this tall, blonde elf.

"I've met you before! Not long ago."

"My Azar! So I am not going insane. I thought certain I had! So, indeed, we have met," muttered Morwen. "It was thirteen years ago."

"So you do remember! You were the girl I found in the woods."

"You found me after you shot me!"

"I thought you could have been an orc or a warg! I acted on instinct."

"I still have a scar from that."

"Quiet!" Thranduil bellowed. "Now, Lady Mordollwen, are you prepared to leave?"

"Just as soon as I saddle my horse."

"Good. Legolas, are you quite ready?"

"Yes, father. I only had to grab one final thing."

"Good. Then, both of you, do what must be done. I shall wait here, so I might see you off."

And so, that's what they did. Morwen gathered her bags from the room she had been set up with, and Legolas grabbed that 'one final thing' from his, and they met back where the horses were. Thranduil led their horses to the gates of his castle.

Handing the reigns up to them, he saw them off with simple words. "May the speed and strength of the Valar be in your horses," and they were off.

It was time.

* * *

Note:

Names: Mordollwen means 'dark as night' and Morwen means 'dark'. Maerwen means 'useful'. Gondien means 'a rock'. Beriadan means 'defender of men' and is named after my cousin. Told you I'd throw your name in someplace!

Anything or anybody I forgot to translate? Send me a PM and I'll fix it ASAP.


	5. Chapter 4

A tall figure sat beside a little girl's bed, just having finished reading a bedtime story for her.

"And they lived happily ever after," he ended, closing the book with a quiet snapping sound. "Sleep, my daughter. I shall see you when the morning comes."

"Yes, father," the little girl whispered, hugging him. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

* * *

Morwen shook her head. Now was not the time to be thinking of her dream from the previous night.

Lithôniel danced through the lighter brush and muscled through the heavier brush. It was tough going, but the two horses were young and strong. They pushed through the remains of winter's dried branches, the only sounds around them being various birds and the snapping and crackling of the wood.

"Where, exactly, are we going, might I ask, Prince Legolas?" Morwen questioned.

"Rivendell. We are to leave our horses there. Then we are off to the Mines of Moria." He turned to look at her scanning her thin, short frame skeptically. "Do you believe you are prepared to enter there?"

She glared. "Hey, I'm the one here to protect you. You think your daddy's dumb enough to send you off with someone who he _knew_ couldn't protect you?"

He gave her a sharp, annoyed look and turned back to look at the path. There was something strange about this girl (besides her manners), and he was determined to figure out what it was.

It was late evening when they arrived at Rivendell. However, they only stayed there one night, and Lord Elrond had left to visit his eldest daughter Arwen.

As Morwen brushed Lithôniel, she whispered soft words of comfort into the horse's ear in her native tongue. Legolas, in the next stall over, was doing the same to Arod, but also listening to the dark girl's words and trying to figure them out.

The only thing that helped was that he deduced that she was multi-lingual. Not much else was discernable. Finally, he couldn't help it any more. So, he asked, "What language are you speaking?"

Her head rose quickly. "Listening to me speak to my horse, are you?"

He realized he was caught, and his eyes widened slightly. "I… um…"

"It's alright," she smiled. It was soft, and the smallest smile he had ever seen, but it was lovely nonetheless. "It's a language I'm sure you are not familiar with. Perhaps one day, I shall explain more of it to you." She stood. "Until then, we must be getting some sleep. We must be early to rise tomorrow."

* * *

As she said, they rose very early the next morning, for they would be walking to Moria, and the ground wasn't exactly friendly to them. He walked under the trees as silently as a soft breeze, while she climbed from tree to tree. Every once in a while, he would look up at her and shake his head, but smile lightly. "I have lived among the large, dark trees of Mirkwood all of my days and traveled through Fangorn Forest, and yet have never seen anyone quite so familiar with the trees that they travel by them."

She chuckled, shimmying to the end of the branch she was on and then hanging down by her ankles, her long hair hanging almost to the ground. "I don't know how you have walked on the ground thus far."

He laughed back at her softly. "Perhaps we should switch places for a time."

She flipped off of the branch with practiced ease. "That might not be the worst idea."

He lifted an eyebrow, to which she simply rolled her eyes. "Come on. It's your idea, anyway. Just climb up into the tree. We don't even have to go far this way. It's just to try it."

He gave her a look that obviously meant, 'you're insane', but climbed up into the branches anyway.

She nodded. "Now just climb through them. You only have to go as far as I go right now," she continued, sprinting barely ten yards away. "Just this far."

He nodded. Well, sort of. It is slightly difficult to nod when you're climbing through branches of a large tree and worrying more about if you're going to get hit in the head if you move too far forward too quickly.

It took him longer than it would have taken her, but he got to her and climbed down the nearest tree trunk. "I must admit," he acknowledged, "This was actually enjoyable."

She smirked. "And you wondered why I travel like that all the time!"

He shook his head. "I still wonder. Climbing from tree to tree like that is quite hard work."

She grinned. "I do it every day."

* * *

So far, their trek was rough, but not amazingly dangerous. The worst danger they had yet met was a poisonous spider attempting to feed off them. However, as Legolas had lived in a forest filled with spiders of all sizes and shapes for practically all of his 2021 years, he dealt with it quickly and easily and they were on their way.

The next thing they had to fight was awkwardness. She hadn't climbed back up into the trees, so they were left walking side-by-side for many miles. Silence, as I'm sure you've experienced, can be intensely awkward. So, finally, she broke the quiet.

"I feel as if you have had a very heavy question to ask me, but have held back. What do you wish to ask?"

He glanced at her, quickly. "It is nothing."

"I do not believe you."

He sighed. "I… alright. I simply wondered where you learned the language you were speaking to your horse."

She growled, very quietly under her breath, hoping he would not hear her before answering, "That is not something you may ask me."

He gave her a questioning look. "Might I at least know why you will not tell me?"

"Memories," she muttered. "Too many of them," and her mind drifted to a memory from twelve years ago.

* * *

The girl was barely nine, and already learning to control the amazing power that was buried deeply into her soul. Her father was strict when it came to her practice, so there were times she would steal away from him, simply to be left alone and write or read one of the old, ripped tomes from Elrond's library. She would climb high into a tree, and tuck herself against a thick branch and read, occasionally falling asleep while she did so. Rather dancing through the trees had come naturally to her, no doubt from practice several years ago, in a place very different, but much the same as this.

She slipped down from the tree.

It was time.


	6. Chapter 5

They bedded down at about sunset that evening, wanting to take advantage of the cool morning hours as much as possible, and also feeling quite hungry. Morwen was in charge of cooking. They had some fresh vegetables and meat to eat that night; one of the few nights on their journey they would have them. Morwen made them into a thick stew, with juicy meat and delightfully fresh tasting veggies.

As soon as they had finished their meal, he cleaned up while she unrolled their blankets and pillows, laying his out on the ground at the base of a tree, and hers up in a thick, sturdy branch of the same tree.

When he saw where her bedding was placed, he laughingly asked, "You are planning to sleep in a tree?" Needless to say, he didn't really think she would.

She grinned. "You got a problem with that?"

"No," he replied, eyebrows lifted, but smirk still prominent. "But I shall at midnight when you fall on top of me."

She laughed, a cold, tinkling laugh. "I shall not fall on top of you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you quite sure? Your setup looks quite precarious."

She smirked. "Why so cynical? I'll be fine."

"I was a bit more worried about my breaking bones as you fall on top of me."

Her laugh was smooth and rolled off her tongue more easily than it had in years. "We shall see."

* * *

And indeed, they did see later that evening when she slipped off the tree branch and landed, not on him, but very close next to him. The wind was knocked out of her, and her arm flapped haphazardly until it smacked him in the eye.

"Ow… what the- …Morwen?"

She huffed and hissed, attempting to speak, but the lack of air made that quite hard to accomplish indeed.

"Morwen, do not speak," he whispered, leaning over her. "Simply try to breathe."

She coughed and spluttered for a few moments before regaining her breath, only to hiss, "Listen up, because these are probably the hardest words I'll ever have to say in my whole damn life." She took a deep breath to prepare herself, and muttered, "You were right."

He leaned away from her as he started to chuckle. It slowly became hard to stop himself and he laughed harder than he had in a good fifteen hundred years. She scowled at him for but a moment before joining him, and they both laughed very hard until they finally both laid down beside the tree and went back to sleep.

The next few days passed quickly. They traveled fairly quickly, as they had no packs to carry, and they were light and swift of foot.

It was one of these days, when they were about halfway to the Mines that Legolas decided to start up some semblance of conversation. "Lady Morwen, where do you hail from?"

She snorted. "Where do I hail from? Indeed. 'Tis a good question, however you mean it. But, do you ask this only as a way to introduce me to those you may know, or because of simple curiosity? Perhaps to reason what, exactly, I am."

He glanced at her. "I suppose all of those reasons. Though, I do not understand exactly what you mean when you say 'what you are'. Do you mean to say you are not an elleth?"

"I do believe that is what I said, and it is also what I meant. You cannot be an elleth when you are something else, now can you?"

"Then, might I ask, what are you?"

She laughed a cold, bitter laugh. "And why should you care? You and I shall not be together for more than the time it takes to make this trip and the return."

"As long as we are together, I would like to know what I am traveling with, eating with, and sleeping near for as long as this trip lasts."

"Point taken," she sighed. "Then I suppose you are right. I must tell you, indeed. But not now. It is not safe or right for you to know now."

He growled. "Why are you acting this way? I have never, in two thousand twenty-one years, met anyone quite as stubborn as you."

Chills danced up and down her spine at his growl. "I act this way because I must. Knowing will destroy you." He made a move as if to protest, but she cut him off. "No. As long as you draw breath, knowing what I am will haunt you."

* * *

She may have been right, but right now, it was haunting him that she wouldn't tell him. It made him very uneasy to be around her, not knowing if she was a woman, elleth, dwarf, or hobbit. It was even possible she was a very small, well disguised orc. Okay, perhaps that last bit was somewhat far-fetched, but it was all he could think of. Why else would she be so adamant that he not know what she was?

She perched in a moderately thick branch, peering through the heavy branches. She sniffed the air and her tongue flicked out just long enough for him to glance up and see her, suspended in the air, her tongue testing (or perhaps tasting) the air.

"What are you doing?" he questioned, one smooth eyebrow raised.

Her eyes darted to him. "I do not know what you mean."

"Do not think I did not see."

She growled softly. "So I stuck out my tongue. What of it?"

He glared at her for but a moment before replying, "Nothing," for it was obvious that this was a subject he wouldn't get past her with. But he could have sworn… no. Impossible.

Right?

* * *

And so it continued for a few days, going from friendly to fighting and back again.

They plodded on towards Moria slowly but surely, her navigating the trees with ease and him padding along the ground.

Quite suddenly, he found himself with a faceful of black and purple hair. He tried to brush it out of his way, but it just kept falling back in front of his eyes. Finally, she leapt from the branch she hung on, landing with a light whopping noise as her boots hit the soft soil.

"We should stay here tonight," she stated. "It is getting dark far too quickly these evenings."

He nodded. "Indeed."

* * *

"Now, say 'cheese!'" Shouted a middle-aged, dark-skinned male.

"Uncle Vic!"

"Fine! Fine. Say 'raw steaks!'"

"That's worse."

He chuckled deep in his throat at his niece and great-nieces, and their husband/father, Jameson. "Just keeping you on your toes, Krissy."

She shot him a death glare. "What have I told you about calling me that?"

He chuckled harder. "The same thing your aunt always used to say about calling her 'Kare-bear'."

She grimaced. "Did you actually call her that?"

"Yep."

She grinned maliciously. "Alright, then. Scar, Sul, Luna, it's time for TICKLE-ATTACK! Uncle Vic said something way too silly."

The three dark haired young ones grinned and pounced on the older male, tickling him relentlessly, laughing very hard, Victor squealing like a child underneath them.

Jameson slipped his arms around his wife, kissing her hair softly. "And you said you didn't want any."

She smiled. "Azar, was I wrong!"

"Yes," he chuckled, "Yes, you were."

* * *

Morwen smiled at the sweet memory. Absentmindedly, she wondered how Uncle Victor and Aunt Karen were. She blinked away a tear as she pictured their faces, along with her sisters and parents. Fourteen long years had flown past since she last settled her eyes upon them.

Legolas called her name from a little ways away. She blinked, straightened herself, and closed _Le Livre de Azar_, marking it with a picture of her family she always kept closed in it.

It was time.


	7. Chapter 6

Until now, the idea that when Sauron was defeated, not all the orcs were destroyed had not crossed Morwen's mind whatsoever. Therefore, when a small group of traveling orcs attacked Legolas, who had gone to collect wood (it was his turn; she had insisted), she was quite unprepared.

She had left her bow and quiver back at the campsite, along with her sword. As a precaution, she had, however, kept her small, shimmering dagger at her side and she drew that now. He was already fighting them, shooting them down one by one, but it wasn't enough, because the group had been reasonably large, and they all attacked at once.

Now, she was there, and tearing into their enemies ruthlessly. Her dagger flashed as she raked it through orc flesh, adrenalin driving her on. Her eyes glinted as a bit of lingering sunlight from the west hit them, and for a split second, he could have sworn they gleamed red. Her slim body moved effortlessly, dancing among the awful creatures and stabbing left and right.

Between the two of them, the group of orcs were pushed back into the forest, many orcs dead or wounded. The orcs soon realized their fatal (literally) mistake and retreated as quickly as they could, Legolas shooting a few extra arrows after them for good measure. Morwen tossed her thick mane and sheathed her dagger.

"Let's get back to camp. Hopefully they didn't storm it while we had our backs turned." She leaned down to gather the wood he had dropped when the orcs attacked. He helped her, and together, they gathered all that wood, plus a little extra.

She turned back towards the small encampment; he found his eyes caught on her smooth, slim legs. She had slipped on her night-shorts and her undershirt for the evening, and all of the porcelain skin below mid-thigh was revealed to his eyes. He was, after all the armor came off, just a normal ellon, and attraction was imminent with a beautiful female near him constantly. He just wondered why he hadn't realized it sooner.

"You coming?" Her voice broke through his reverie, and his head snapped up to look her in the eyes. He nodded, and they headed back through the brush.

* * *

The attack was naught but an annoyance. They had little trouble the remaining distance, and made good time the last day, arriving at the gates of Moria a little after dusk.

Gimli, being the gracious host that he was, was waiting at the gate for them to arrive. He brought them in as quickly as possible, practically dragging them along through the streets to his home. He rushed them along, shouting things like, "It's not too far now!" and "I'm glad to see you, laddie."

Morwen chuckled softly to herself when Gimli called Legolas 'laddie'. Legolas heard, and whispered in her ear, "Not a word of this."

She laughed harder. "Of course, Prince Legolas," she managed, then burst out in laughter again.

* * *

The dwarf led them to his house and pushed them in before hurrying to remove the food he had cooking from where it was in the kitchen to the table.

Legolas set down his pack by the door, and motioned for Morwen to do the same. She raised an eyebrow, but did so, settling her bag beside his. She then stood by him, feeling a bit proud to be taller than someone as she looked down upon the dwarf.

"Now, laddie, who is this fair young lass?" Gimli asked.

"This is-" Legolas began, but she pushed him aside to bow to Gimli.

"I am Mordollwen of Ithilien, adoptive daughter of Lord Elrond. I am here to accompany Prince Legolas on his journey as per his father's wishes."

Gimli blinked, obviously surprised by how formal and sharp she was, but grinned. "Glad to meet you, lass."

She nodded simply.

"Now, shall we have some supper?" Gimli suggested, pushing them to the kitchen table. "Sit, sit. Eat! I have prepared plenty."

So they did. The food was good, Morwen noted, for a dwarf without a wife.

After the meal was over, Gimli pulled out three mugs of ale and his pipe and smoked contentedly, pausing to sip on his ale every now and again. Legolas lifted his ale to say cheers to Morwen, but- "Wait. We must have a contest to see who can drink their ale faster."

He raised a dark brow. "What?"

"You heard what I said. Now come on!"

He looked skeptical, but agreed. "Gimli, would you be the judge?"

"Aye, laddie. I wouldn't miss this!" he snorted. "Now, ready… begin!"

And they did. Morwen sipped quickly, but Legolas was faster, having some semblance of practice with drinking as quickly as possible with that horrid drinking game he and the dwarf had had at Helm's Deep. He finished but a split second before she did, slamming his mug down on the table.

"Finished."

She smirked at him. "You won this time, but we'll see who wins next time."

He smiled at her mention of 'next time'. "Yes, we shall see."

* * *

And so went their time at the halls of Moria. Drinking contests, eating, chatting, and various games occupied most of their time. Morwen distanced herself from most of what they did, but would join them if either male asked her.

In the time she wasn't spending with them, she would stroll through the city, sometimes venturing outside the gates to wander through the trees, making sure to stay close, but not too close, to the gate. She would spend hour upon hour reading, climbing through the highest branches of some of the huge, old trees, or wading in a small stream that was nearby. At times she would have conversations with fish, birds or other animals, once even a full-grown moose.

During one of her times in the woods, she stood on a heavy branch of a particularly large tree, leaning against the trunk, a soft smile tracing over her lips. Legolas climbed up beside her, standing with a hand on a small overhead branch to steady himself.

"Is the game over?" she asked, the smile never leaving her lips.

"Yes." He glanced at her, noticing her look of complete and total tranquility. "What have you been doing?"

"Just… being, I suppose. I was climbing among the trees when the sun started to go down, so I came here. It's been my favorite spot to watch the sun set for the days we have been here."

He nodded. "It is always good to have a place of solitude." He began to climb down. "I shall leave you."

"Wait," he heard her whisper.

"What?" he asked, stopping in his motions.

"You needn't leave." She sank down to sit on the branch. "Come, watch the sunset with me."

He almost climbed down the tree, but stopped himself at the last second. What did it matter? She had only asked him to watch the sunset. He slipped up onto the branch beside her.

They silently watched until it was completely dark, then clambered down the tree and went in the gate back to Gimli's house.


	8. Chapter 7

The sky turning shades of red, orange, yellow and purple constantly. Giant chunks of solid rock with flattened tops floated. Metallic buildings painted shimmering black with many balconies all edged with ornate black railings were plastered across the smooth-topped stones.

A little girl of about five sat on one of these railings, a woman standing near her, a hand on her shoulder for support.

"Mother?"

"Yes, Lunaera?"

"Why is the sky so many colors all the time? At home it is always blue."

The mother smiled. "Because that is the way this galaxy was created. The sky in it makes it special."

"Oh."

As the silence progressed, a tune began to slip from the older female's throat, finally slipping into legible words.

_Happiness hit her _

_Like a train on a track_

_Coming towards her_

_Stock still, no turning back_

_She hid around corners_

_And she hid under the beds_

_She killed it with kisses_

_And from it she fled_

_With every bubble she sank within a dream_

_And washed it away down the kitchen sink_

_The dog days are over_

_The dog days are done_

_The horses are coming_

_So you better run_

The wise woman's words spoke of a silent doom she had foreseen. But none, even the seer, knew exactly how bad that doom would be.

"Momma?" the little girl interjected.

"Yes, Luna?"

"Will you sing the song? Please?"

Krissa rolled her dark green eyes. "I don't know why you love this song so much, but I suppose I will, if you really want me to."

"Oh, I do, Momma," Luna affirmed. "Please?"

"Alright. Now, how does it begin?"

"Momma!" Luna chastised. "You know how it goes."

"Yes. I was just hoping you would sing it with me."

The little girl smiled. "I can do that."

So the two sang, mother and daughter, a long, sweet tale.

* * *

A huge family was all dining on a delicious meal. Aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters, fathers, and mothers were all there, whether related by blood or adoptive.

The man of the house, however, was at the door, speaking to someone.

"Alright. Thank you, Raymond," the green-haired sixty-year-old muttered.

"You tell me if there's anything I can do to help," Raymond mentioned. "I'm here for you if you need anything, Logan."

"Yes. Thanks again. See you later."

Raymond nodded. "See you."

Garfield Mark Logan closed their front door and headed back upstairs and into the huge dining hall. His wife, Raven Angela Logan, rose immediately.

"What is it, Gar?" she asked, obviously worried.

"Yeah, man," Victor Stone, a man who had pretty much adopted Garfield and Raven as his siblings, agreed. "You look like you've just seen raw meat."

Garfield grimaced. "No, although that is pretty awful. This is worse."

"Just spill it," Raven mumbled, sitting back down beside her eldest daughter, Krissa Leahnna Parker.

Garfield shook his head. "No, we'll talk about it later; perhaps when all the youngest ones are in bed?"

Krissa and her fraternal twin, Mercy Hope Hart, and their brother, Michael Calvin Logan, nodded slowly.

"Temps pour le lit," Krissa told her daughters. They all let out a resounding 'aw'. Their mother shook her head. "Ne vous plaignez pas. Plus vous lamenter, moins vous serez en mesure de rester jusqu'à la fin une autre nuit. Maintenant, allez."

"Oui, ma mere," they grumbled, but they went.

"Bryden, would you…?" Mercy asked her husband.

"Of course," he whispered, kissing her cheek and leading their four children away.

Michael and his wife, Tracy Victoria Szasz Logan, sent their children away, and then it was all adults.

Victor and his wife, Karen; Richard Grayson, and his wife, Koriand'r; and then Garfield, his wife and their three children and Krissa and Michael's spouses.

"Now," Garfield began. "Let's go sit on the couch."

Raven rolled her eyes.

* * *

Mercy gasped. Everyone else just sat there, looking shocked and confused. Garfield ran a hand through his unruly (but thankfully, fully intact) mop of green hair. "Yeah."

Krissa stared down at the ground, biting her lip lightly. "Azar, pourquoi?" she mumbled, not truly expecting an answer.

Raven whispered, "Sometimes we are not to know why things happen. They just do, and we must accept them and move on."

* * *

Krissa blinked back a warm, wet tear, watching her children say goodbye to their father, grandfather, grandmother, aunts and uncles. A final hug was given, and then it was her turn.

Everyone else left the room, knowing when to give a woman and her children privacy.

Krissa kneeled beside her daughters. Scarlett hugged her first, whispering, "Je t'aime, Maman."

"I love you as well, Scarlett. Remember to hand in your algebra homework on time."

Scarlett smiled sadly. "I will, Momma." She stepped back.

Now Selina moved towards her mother. "Tu vas me manquer, Maman."

Krissa smiled softly. "I'll miss you, as well, Selina. Remember to be yourself, no matter how hard it gets."

Selina nodded seriously. "I will, Momma." She then hugged her mother tightly, and pulled away to stand by her older sister.

Luna gripped her mother tightly to herself for but a moment before whispering, "Jusqu'à ce que je regarde ton visage, Mère."

"Jusque-là, ma fille." She pulled back to look her daughter in the eyes. "Rappelez-vous, vous n'avez pas toujours être seul."

Lunaera blinked back a tear. "Je n'oublierai pas."

* * *

One afternoon, the three were in Gimli's house, having just finished their lunch. Gimli had challenged Legolas to an arm wrestling match, claiming he had 'gained some muscle' and wanted a 'fair rematch'.

So there they were: a tall, pale elvish prince and a short, rugged dwarf having a vigorous arm wrestling match. So far, neither was really winning, as Morwen confirmed. One would get the upper hand, then the other, and it would just continue on like that. At that moment, Gimli had almost won when someone knocked on the front door, he lost his concentration, and Legolas slammed his hand into the table.

"Not fair!" Gimli complained. "We shall have a fair match later."

Morwen snickered into her palm, trying not to laugh any louder. Legolas leaned towards her and whispered, "Yes, a fair match… Just like we will have any time he loses."

She chuckled a little harder, trying to restrain herself. He grinned.

Gimli stepped back into the room looking very flustered.

Legolas sobered up immediately, standing and asking, "Is everything alright?"

Gimli shook his head. "That was Te- well, never mind who it was. It was what he said that was important." He looked up at Legolas, a disturbed expression on his face. "The orcs are not all gone. In fact, there is a large pack attacking the Shire."

Legolas' eyes widened. "Again, they return. Hobbiton seems to be their favorite hunting ground."

Gimli nodded grimly. "Indeed."

* * *

Temps pour le lit – Time for bed

Ne vous plaignez pas. Plus vous lamenter, moins vous serez en mesure de rester jusqu'à la fin une autre nuit. Maintenant, allez. – Do not whine. The more you whine, the less likely you will be able to stay up late another night. Now, go.

Oui, ma mère. – Yes, mother.

Azar, pourquoi? – Azar, why?

Je t'aime, Maman – I love you, Momma

Tu vas me manquer, Maman. – I'll miss you, Momma.

Je veux, Maman. – I will, Momma.

Jusqu'à ce que je regarde ton visage, Mère. – Until I look upon your face again, Mother.

Jusque-là, ma fille. Rappelez-vous, vous n'avez pas toujours être seul. – Until then, my daughter. Remember, you do not always have to be alone.

Je n'oublierai pas. – I won't forget.


	9. Chapter 8

_She was falling, falling, always falling into a deep, swirling abyss. She screamed for her mother, her sisters, her aunts and uncles, Legolas; anyone who could save her…_

_But no one came._

_So she was stuck, falling, falling, forever falling…_

Morwen gasped and sat up quickly, glancing about her. A fire flickered a few yards to her right; the stream they had camped near was on the other side of it. Gimli snored somewhere to her left, and Legolas…

Where was he?

Ah, there, she noted. At the edge of the stream. He sat, staring out at the water. It took her a few moments, but she finally noticed that he was looking at her, whispering her name.

"Yes?" she answered.

"Are you alright?" he asked, very softly.

She closed her eyes. "I will be."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

This made her stop. Now, normally, she would have immediately said no, but now, she was tempted to go sit very close by his side and tell him everything. But she couldn't…

Or could she? Her mother had told her, she did not have to be alone…

That made up her mind. She rose, tossing aside her blanket, and settled close to Legolas on the edge of the stream, watching the moon. After a moment of sitting in silence, he finally whispered, "What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't," she answered, bluntly. "I just want to sit here and watch the moon."

He nodded. "Alright."

So they watched. At one point, he thought of pulling her closer when he saw her shudder, but he decided she would not want that. He was proved wrong when she grabbed his arm and pulled it about her shoulders, huddling into his side. He blinked and look down at her, confused, but held her there, letting her lean her head against his shoulder.

They sat like that until she fell asleep, and then he picked her up, wrapped her up in her blanket, and set her down with her pillow under her head. He then grabbed his own blanket and pillow and laid down about a foot away from her, so he would be right there if she had another nightmare.

* * *

"They've set up a new law stating that all metahumans must evacuate earth- or face a death sentence."

* * *

Scarlett weaved through the saplings, trying to find her playmate. "Meldiriel, where are you? You know I am not as good at this game as you!"

A giggle sounded somewhere to her right. "I've got you now, Meldi!" Scarlett shouted.

A light blue shape appeared just in front of Scarlett, who reacted quickly, putting an extra burst of speed behind her footsteps. She slammed into the elleth, knocking her to the ground with sheer force.

"Scar! No fair!" Meldi complained. "You cheated!"

Scarlett scowled. "I did not!"

"You did so!"

"I did not!"

"Meldiriel! Scarlett!" Scarlett's adoptive father and Meldiriel's real father, Eredhion thundered. "I will not have you quarreling like a bunch of… orcs!"

"Yes, father," Meldi and Scarlett conceded.

"Good. Now off you go! I came out to tell you that dinner is on the table."

* * *

"_Je suis aussi léger que je peux être._

_Tu m'as apesanteur._

_Vous me prenez dans une odyssée._

_Tu m'as apesanteur._

_Vous me faites flotter librement,_

_Et mon amour pour toi est sans fin._

_Pas de liens sont obligatoires moi._

_Oh, je suis en apesanteur."_

Morwen sat beside the edge of the stream, just watching the sun rise and softly singing a tune her mother had taught her nearly fourteen years before.

"What does it mean?"

"What?" she asked.

"What does this ballad you sing mean?" Legolas repeated.

She smiled softly. "It is a tale of love." She chuckled. "My mother used to sing it about my father when she thought we weren't listening. Finally, I asked her to teach it to me so I could sing it about the man I loved." She shook her head thoughtfully. "Haven't gotten a chance to sing it about him, whoever he is. Never met him."

She stood. "It's about time we were off. Would you wake Gimli?"

He nodded solemnly, staring out at the sun as it pushed its way above the horizon, before going to wake the dwarf.

* * *

Their going was fairly quick, considering the fact they had a dwarf who may or may not have been half asleep with them. In fact, they made it to Bree the second day on the road. They stayed an evening at the Prancing Pony, which Gimli made sure to enjoy to the fullest, before moving on.

They made it all the way to edge of the Shire by nightfall that evening, but decided that they wouldn't get very far attacking the orcs while they had just been running all day with only a few short breaks. So, they rested that evening, not building a fire, but sleeping each beside a tree.

Morwen awakened at about midnight that night, and, feeling awake enough to rise, went to the Brandywine River, and splashed about to rinse off the previous day's sweat and dirt. She decided air drying would be the most efficient, and climbed up into a heavy tree branch, stretching out to dry her skin and clothes. The moon filtered through the trees, casting a pale light on her already pale skin, making her practically glow.

Suddenly, she caught a glimpse of movement.

There!

She pounced on the unknowing thing, wrestling it to the ground and pinning its arms flat against the grass, her knees pushed into its sides as she straddled it to keep it down.

A few awkward moments later and she realized she was sitting on a pale-skinned, blonde-haired elf prince.

He blinked, obviously not knowing exactly what – or rather, who – had hit him. He had woken up and was going to get a quick drink of water before attempting to go back to sleep.

But then, suddenly, he was flat on his back, pinned to the ground with an otherworldly female straddling him.

Talk about _awkward._ He just kind of sit there, not wanting to be rude and push her off, but feeling a smidgen uncomfortable with her in this provocative position and Gimli just a few yards off.

She coughed and cleared her throat, just making the already thick atmosphere more uncomfortable. She climbed off of him, sitting beside his stiffened form.

"Uh..." she began. "Instinct. Just instinct. Sorry." She stood. 'I'm going to go… go watch for orcs. Yeah. Uhm… sorry." And she hurried away from him.

He let out the deep breath he didn't even notice he had been holding and stood up, going to do what he had planned in the first place.

* * *

Meldiriel means 'friend' and Eredhion means 'seeder' or 'farmer'.

Je suis aussi léger que je peux être

Tu m'as apesanteur

Vous me prenez dans une odyssée

Tu m'as apesanteur

Vous me faites flotter librement

Et mon amour pour toi est sans fin

Pas de liens sont obligatoires moi

Oh, je suis en apesanteur

I'm as light as I can be.

You've got me feeling weightless.

You take me on an odyssey.

You've got me feeling weightless.

You make me float free,

And my love for you is endless.

No ties are binding me.

Oh, I'm in zero gravity.

PM me if you know what song this is and who it's by!


End file.
